


The Way You Shine Like Truth In All You Do

by prouvairablehulk



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Ice Hockey AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9226298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prouvairablehulk/pseuds/prouvairablehulk
Summary: Lenny Snart’s been doing press conferences since he first stepped on the ice – it’s the great burden of being an ice hockey prodigy. That should mean that he’s not fazed by them now, so many infinite years later, but here he is, standing just outside the view of the cameras, trying very hard not to panic.





	

Lenny Snart’s been doing press conferences since he first stepped on the ice – it’s the great burden of being an ice hockey prodigy. That should mean that he’s not fazed by them now, so many infinite years later, but here he is, standing just outside the view of the cameras, trying very hard not to panic. 

“Relax, Cap –“

“We’ve got you.”

The Mardon brothers, superstar defensemen, have come up to flank him, Mark on his left and Clyde on his right. The last member of their little trio, the perpetually underestimated goalie Hartley Rathaway, is conspicuously absent – only because he’s already on stage. This is Hart’s press conference after all, and Len’s only going up to say a few words about the team’s reception of Hart’s announcement.

Hart’s engagement announcement. To Cisco, one of the trainers. Which is also Hart’s coming out.

It’s this fact that is causing Len’s anxiety. Don’t get him wrong, its not that he hates the idea of Hartley being queer. He’s afraid for Hartley, scared of the negative response. He’s afraid for their team, who will be subjected to slurs and vitriol for the rest of the season. He’s scared for Cisco, who’s a good man and doesn’t deserve the shitstorm coming his way, for daring to exist, to be gay and to be brown at the same time. He’s afraid of the ghost of his father, who’d kept Len in the closet for so long. And, perhaps most importantly, he’s scared of what’s going to come out of his mouth when the press asks him what his personal opinion of Hart and Cisco’s relationship is.

Len’s afraid of his own traitor mouth, which might answer that question in a way that condemns Len’s on-ice family to twice the pain.  
See, here’s the thing. He hasn’t told anyone on the team the details of the relationship that’s making him grin every time he looks at his phone, but if he’s being perfectly honest – The guy’s name is Mick. He owns a bakery. It’s a pie store, if you’re being pedantic. He’s got broad shoulders and a Kiwi accent and he complains about slang for fries and regional idioms and shitty American politics and shitty Kiwi politics in the same breath and he can carry two thirty pound bags of flour like it’s absolutely nothing, and he knew exactly who Len was from the minute Len walked in, and he treated him no different, beyond a question or two about the season and a question about marks in communal showers or locker rooms the first time he’d picked Len up and slammed him against a wall before attempting to check Len’s tonsil health with his tongue. And if someone asks Len what he thinks about Hartley and Cisco, or what he thinks about queer hockey players, it’s all going to come tumbling out in one long mess of lovestruck babble because its been six months now and Len is so very sure Mick is everything he’s ever needed. 

Hartley chooses this moment to give him a way out, by throwing his mike at the head of a reporter who addressed him with a slur. Len spins on his heel, shoves past the Mardons, and walk-runs to the Head Coach’s office. Joe glances up when Len bursts in, interrupting Harry Wells’ latest   
rant.

“Len?”

“I can’t answer press questions about Hart and Cisco. We need to field them to the Mardons.”

Joe’s eyes widen, both in response to the opening salvo, and to the fact that Len is staring intently at his phone, which chooses that moment to buzz.

“People are going to talk if the captain doesn’t say anything, Len.” says Joe.

“I’m going to be saying plenty.” Len assures him. “In my own press conference. Which I need you to call.”

He places his phone down on Joe’s desk. Harry cranes his neck to get a look at the screen.

“Who’s he?” asks Joe, plainly confused. Len heaves in a breath, and blurts it out before he can change his mind. His father’s not leaning over his shoulder any more. He’s safe.

“That’s my partner. Mick.”

Joe looks up, eyes wide. 

“I can’t keep it secret any more. And I’d like to be in control when I tell the press. Plus, it will take some of the heat of Hart and Cisco.”

“Can he handle it?” asks Harry, ever the cynic.

Joe gestures at the photo, expression informing Harry that it would be a dumb question. Len thinks of the reception wither the press or homophobic assholes would get at Mick’s store, and grins at the mental view of the carnage.

“Perhaps we ought to keep his name to of it, for their sakes.”

***

Central City Riveters fans are loyal bastards, perhaps due to the years of losing seasons before Len and Barry and Wally took over as the linemen and the Mardons closed up the back, and they close ranks around Hart and Len like a fucking bear trap. Rainbow t-shirt with the team logo become a common sight around the city, and the fans cheer for Cisco when they see him almost as loud as they cheer for actual players.   
But nonetheless, there are still assholes. After one of them throws something at Cisco, Riveters games start having a new regular, who sits right behind the part of the bench where the trainers sit, and glowers at everyone while looking more physically intimidating than most of the team.  
Len had never gone public with Mick’s name, just in case, only referring to him as his partner, so no one knows who Mick is when he attends games, just that he’s particularly protective of Cisco.

It’s been almost a year and a half now, and there’s been two rings hanging on a chain around Len’s neck or looped around is water or spare stick for three weeks now. Mick almost gets kicked out for fighting until it turns out some scumbag was coming after Cisco with a knife and Mick’s suddenly a hometown hero, and the game’s basically over anyway, so Len skates over to the bench, makes grabby hands until Axel hands over his water bottle, unloops a ring, and cups his hands around his mouth.

“Hey asshole!” he roars. It’s a testament to the kind of relationship they have that Mick answers to the call. Len waves the ring in the air. “Come   
down here so I can ask this properly.”

The Mardons and Hartley are all grabbing at each other behind him, giving off a semi-harmonized low screech. The entire stadium has gone silent.

“Lenny-“ says Mick, and his voice almost breaks in the middle.

“Come on. Get down here so we can do this proper.” says Len.

“Lisa is never going to forgive you for doing this when she’s not here.” says Mick, slowly making his way down to the bench.

“Time was right.” says Len. “She’ll let it go if we let her plan the wedding.”

Mick makes a noise that might be a choked little sob.

“What do you say?” asks Len, when Mick’s on the other side of the tiny barrier to the bench. Mick reaches out to punch him in the arm.

“Of course it’s yes, you fucking asshole.” snaps Mick. The entire stadium erupts in a roar, and Len leans over the barrier in order to kiss his new fiancée, only for half his team to sweep him up in some kind of hybrid tackle hug. Mick is standing there, his ring in his hands, laughing through the tears on his face, and Len’s ears are ringing because it’s okay, everything’s okay, his city’s behind him and his team’s behind him, and his father is gone, and the love of his life has just agreed to marry him.

It’s a better feeling than hoisting the cup.


End file.
